


delicious

by lost_in_starlight



Category: Crier's War Series - Nina Varela
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, crier bakes and ayla teases, i just finished the books and now im writing fan fiction to cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_starlight/pseuds/lost_in_starlight
Summary: “Human baking? When you don’t even eat?” Ayla raised her eyebrow, letting a small grin escape the side of her lips.“It’s so fascinating. Look here,” she pointed at the dough, “they can be made into small delicacies that you will enjoy.”“Big talk for someone who’s wearing half the recipe,” Ayla chuckled.
Relationships: Crier/Ayla (Crier's War)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	delicious

**Author's Note:**

> i have crier/ayla brainrot

Ayla heard her footsteps echo down the winding hallways, around bends and corners, passing people and Automae alike going about their daily business. Since the peace treaty, it had taken everyone time to adjust to the new norm. For the high-class Automae of Rabu to see humans as their equal. Even now, occasionally, there would be small hustles in dark corners and Ayla would have to intervene.

Being associated with Crier certainly helped her standing. People … respected her. Even outside of her relationship, her work with midwife Jezen had earned her a standing in society. It felt nice to walk through these halls with her head held high, knowing she all but well fucking deserved this.

When she’d walked into Crier’s rooms a few minutes to find it empty, no dark head hunched by the window sill, her natural instinct was to search for Crier in the library. But a passing handmaiden had told her that Lady Crier had taken to the kitchens. Something about being curious about this human skill.

Ayla knew she had to see this, and so make her way down to the kitchens, pushing open the wooden door to be hit with the smell of herbs and the dinner brewing in the pots. The kitchen help grinned at her, greeting a hello, and Ayla’s eyes scanned the large expanse of shelves until her eyes caught on a dress a little too bright, hair a little too shiny.

“My Lady - that is not exactly - more like this…” one of the kitchenmaids was standing next to Crier. Ayla could make out both of their bent heads as the woman’s arms moved, kneading something from what it looked like. Crier was staying Automa still - meaning she was focused enough to _not_ focus.

“Quite impressive how they turn perfectly round when you do them, Illia. I must theorize you to be exceptionally good at sketching, no?” Crier turned her head towards _Illia_. Ayla caught a glimpse of the side of her face before she walked over, sliding into the space next to Crier, leaning her forearms back on the counter just as Illia stuttered out a response.

“Exceptio- well I wouldn’t say that bu-but I do enjoy-”

“Would I need to check for bones in my dessert tonight?” Ayla joked, Crier’s eyes snapping to her, narrowing. Ayla couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her when she saw the tip of Crier’s nose coated in flour as well as patches of her dress. Her hands were buried in a small clump of dough, fingers sticking to it as Illia demonstrated how to kneed it properly into a circle.

“Ayla,” Crier replied, sniffling - a very _human_ action - at her dig. “I will have you know that since I finished up my duties for today, and you were still busy in the lab, I decided to learn some basics of human baking.”

“Human baking? When you don’t even eat?” Ayla raised her eyebrow, letting a small grin escape the side of her lips.

“It’s so fascinating. Look here,” she pointed at the dough, “they can be made into small delicacies that you will _enjoy_.”

“Big talk for someone who’s wearing half the recipe,” Ayla chuckled, leaning forward to brush some of the flour off Crier’s nose. She went a little cross-eyed as she tracked Ayla’s move, and looked back down at her dough.

“My Lady is a fast learning, I don’t doubt you will get the grasp of it in the nick of time,” Illia assured Crier. “A little pinch of flour goes a long way with preventing the dough from sticking.” Illia sprinkled the flour over Crier’s dough and then demonstrated how to get it off her fingers.

Ayla leaned back on her forearms, watching Crier track every move Illia made to get the dough where it needed to be in order to cook. Illia walked away with the tray, reading them for baking.

“I would say that was quite successful,” Crier grinned triumphantly at Ayla. Ayla knew Crier was trying to spend her free time in different parts of the castle - not repurposed - to see how to help. Where things needed changing.

“Have you made anything else? Just asking for future reference if I end up bent over the toilet today,” Ayla teased and laughed loud when Crier batted her flour-covered hands at her arm, leaving behind a fluff of white.

“I made my way around and Illia offered if I wanted to help, and then, well…” Crier gestured at the shelf.

“Does this mean I should expect sweets at my doorstep every morning, handmade with _love?_ ” Ayla grinned. She was already shorter than Crier but leaned back, Crier’s height difference was even more obvious. Ayla tilting her head back to look at her.

“You need to stop teasing,” Crier’s eyes were sharp.

“Oh yeah? Or what?” Ayla leaned closer, nose almost brushing Crier,

“Or-” Crier clapped both her, flour-covered hands, on Ayla’s cheeks. Properly smearing them down her face as Ayla gaped at her in exaggerated shock.

“You didn’t just-”

“I did,” Crier grinned, all amusement, and then turned and bid the staff a polite good-bye. Thanking them all for their hard work and then Illia for teaching her. Ayla gripped her arm as they left.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” she said, mock threat.

“I’m trembling in my shoes,” Crier replied, looking down at her. Her face was blank but Ayla knew her well enough now to know the laughter in her eyes.

“I think you're picking up on the worst of the human habits.”

“And what would that be?” Crier asked as they emerged back in the halls, the path down to her rooms. Ayla reached up and tried to get the flour off her face, not wanting to make a total fool of herself.

“Snarking.”

“I think maybe I just spend too much time with you,” Crier replied as they neared her room.

“Are you saying you would like to remedy that?” Ayla lifted an eyebrow as Crier pushed open the doors, nodding at the guards outside them.

“Hmmm.”

Ayla pushed the door closed behind them, grabbing at Crier’s sleeve and turning her around, “ _Hmmm_?” She raised an eyebrow.

“If it is a problem then I must fix it, no?” Crier gazed at her, back pressed against the door.

“My presence is a problem now, huh?” Ayla leaned up, breath brushing against Crier’s ear and neck as she watched in glee as Crier’s eyes fluttered.

“If you say so—” Crier cut herself off as Ayla leaned back just a hair's width, nose brushing against her nose, eyes gazing into eyes.

“You were saying?” Ayla whispered, all breath no bite.

“Yo-you’ve got a little something…” Crier cupped Ayla’s cheek, brushing her thumb across her cheekbone.

Ayla rolled her eyes, “And who’s fault is-” she was cut off as Crier leaned down, capturing her lips and hands gripping her waist. Ayla’s eyes closed on instinct, arms snaking around Crier’s shoulders, hands playing with the curls at her nape. Crier leaned away from the door, pressing closer to Ayla.

“Warn a girl before you kiss her like that.” Ayla breathed, pulling away, watching Crier’s eyes flutter back open.

“I thought you would appreciate the spontaneity.” Crier smiled, soft, and then leaned back in, pushing them away from the door and further into her bed-chamber.

-

That night, as the humans gathered to eat, Crier found Ayla, an anticipating look on her face.

“What are you doing here?” Ayla asked, surprised, as she had just left Crier a while ago in her chamber. If Ayla looked closely enough, she could make out the faint blush of a kiss on Crier’s collarbone, covered by her hair and the neck of her dress. It made her inwardly smile.

“How’s the food?” Crier asked back.

“It’s good,” Ayla replied, mouth stuffed.

“And the bread?” Crier prompted.

Ayla grinned, swallowing her bite, “Delicious.” And was gifted with a bright smile taking over Crier’s face that she couldn’t help but kiss.

-

**Author's Note:**

> i love these two too much for words, thank you for reading <3
> 
> twitter: aperpetualmess


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